The Beverly Hills, 90210 Visual Aids Are One Big Happy Family
Not that you'd know it from Kelly's stankface in our collection of the 'best' looks from her second birthday of the year!
The Again With This podcast that accompanies these Visual Aids don't punch a timecard.
Jesus, Valerie: make new friends. Or, if you're not going to put all these dolts in your rearview, at least accept that Dylan has no respect for you and stop pining for the man(-tis).
A dossier so unrealistic, Dylan apparently has to keep pages from it on his person to remind himself that it exists?
If he's going to assassinate anything, he should start with Brandon's 2BR sneakers.
In which Ginger's prolonged exposure to the gang necessitates self-carijuana.
Who doesn't go shopping in either a madras-napkin dress and scraped-back pony with lank proscenium bangs, or a pointless cropped ringer tee and belted leggings?
Not that we've particularly enjoyed Dylan's hat narratives in the past (inner-child striped cap; Rolling Stones aggro-rehab cap), but wouldn't one of them come in handy here if he's trying to disguise his massive forehead during a stakeout?
Or maybe he's not trying to disguise himself. It's kind of the only rationale for how unbelievably terrible Dylan is at surveillance.
Exhibit C: staring at the guard, with eye contact, for seven weeks to make sure the guy memorizes him.
That said, he'd fit right in with the retired beachcombers in Boca. UNTUCK YOUR SHIRT, JONES.
Not quite the alluring bad-boy-broodery angle the director thought it was.
Great, the Sydney Derpera House boy coif is contagious.
Nice jewelry box, Steve. (Note v.v. '90s nuts-on-a-ribbon necklace at lower right.)
First of all, men under the age of 65 should not wear "short"-sleeved shirts that go all the way down to their elbows. Second of all, whatever shirt you wear, button it the hell up. You look like you have a brown tank top on underneath.
Perhaps you wouldn't require a sweater if you had a full shirt on, and/or a skirt longer than 13.5 inches.
"You're not supposed to put any weight on the plugs the first 90 days!" ...Oh.
Just a pair of white patent go-go boots away from joining the B-52s.
...Right? She's like Dark Helmet's schemey ginger cousin.
Which is worse, the workaday "art" Colin's committing; Kelly's meaningless "the red and orange are so striking" commentary; or Kelly's unflattering bunchy-bodiced maxi and sandals she borrowed from one of the grandmas in Sixteen Candles?
We may have seen Jackie's dress before.
But we don't recall the earrings, which Sarah would wear, despite (or maybe because of?) their being the Jackiest Jaccessories that ever Jackied.
Why did you even come, Wednesday Addams? At least feign a single smile.
"You can't sit with us." Promise?
"You, on the other hand, must sit with Kelly."
The infamous sapphire earrings, which both of us would also wear.
Oh, Dave Koz. We hope you invested this check wisely.
Is this worse than jazz? Well, Sarah just noticed that Nat and Clare have functionally the same hairstyle, so: yep.
But we love this guy.
And this guy, because they're making their own fun in the classic Sanders style.
Clearly, they're unable to see this asshole smugly preening at having gotten Brandon and Dylan to semi-fight over her once again.
We would compare the bedpost to a stripper pole, but most topless-dance liaisons have more clothing on than Donna does here. And better hair, obvs.
Cram it, Tintin-oretto.
The Sistine Crap-el With Cake. Acrylic and vomit, 1995.